


I Gave You My Heart

by TheRedGlass



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Endgame stucky, Feels, Ficlet, I am so sorry, Love Lost - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, like mega angst, my brain took the prompt and ran with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedGlass/pseuds/TheRedGlass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony almost had something. Almost. One Christmas later, Steve tries to explain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Gave You My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I asked my followers to send me a ship and a Christmas song and I'd write a short fic for them. This one was Stony + Last Christmas and oh my god did the angst run away with me on this one. I am so sorry.

The balcony is frigid, but it provides an excellent view of New York, resplendent in its soft blanket of snow. The party inside Stark Tower is warm and inviting, but someone has been missing from the festivities, ostensibly for the view outside, and he knows that this confrontation was coming sooner or later.

Steve takes a deep breath before venturing out the door, not for the cold but for the figure of the man hunched over the railing that runs along the edge, a tumbler of something strong in one hand.

Tony.

He hesitates, standing in shirtsleeves in the dust of snow on the balcony floor, his heart shuddering in his chest as his mouth goes dry and all he wants to do is go running back inside. Captain America never ran from a fight - but this was so much quieter and wounding than a fight, this yearlong silence, and he still didn’t know what to do.

“Hey Tony.” The words come out tight and awkward and he wishes he could take them back even as he knows this conversation would have to start somehow.

The only response the man makes is to take a swig from the glass in his hand.

Steve forces himself forward, even as it seems his throat is swelling shut as every emotion, every memory comes rushing back.

“How…are you?” A stupid question he immediately berates himself for.

Silence is the only answer.

A sort of desperation and sorrow settles over him. “Tony, please say something,” he whispers.

There is a long moment where nothing happens, and then finally Tony turns with the startling suddenness of a statue coming to life and Steve finds himself looking into red rimmed eyes with a dull deadness behind them. “Merry Christmas Steve,” Tony says in a hollow tone, a tight, fake smile forced into his features.

“Tony…” Steve chokes, and he’s trying to find the words as it all comes rushing back: last Christmas. This same tower. A very similar party. A lot of festive drinks and laughing and a cozy feeling that blanketed everything and made the night seem simply magical and somehow they’d found themselves standing on this same balcony, standing closer than they’d meant to but neither minding as it seemed a natural extension of the connection between them that had only been growing and at some point they had lost themselves in each other’s eyes and Steve found his head drifting towards Tony’s of its own accord and to his surprise Tony hadn’t seemed surprised at all and had leaned into the gesture and the moment their lips had met it had been like an electric circuit had been completed. They’d had no idea how long they were out there, trading tender gestures and murmuring surprised confessions. They had made awkward plans, like two teenagers fumbling into the world of feelings and dates for the first time.

They’d both gone home with absurd smiles on their faces that they had explained away to anyone who asked, still trying to sort out what had happened.

But the next morning had utterly derailed that train.

The morning after Christmas had found Bucky Barnes standing alive and well outside Steve’s door.

Pepper had called it a Christmas miracle. And at first it had seemed like that. It made sense for Steve to be with Bucky all the time, marveling at his return, how he’d broken the mental hold the brainwashing had had on him, only returning to Steve when he was certain he couldn’t hurt him anymore. They had been friends for years, of course his arrival and reintegration should take precedence over the new thing that had been blossoming between Steve and Tony.

And then it became abundantly clear that Steve and Bucky had been far more than friends, and suddenly they were doing the things that Tony and Steve had been doing, but with none of the hesitation and none of the awkwardness and Tony could only watch with a brokenness that became a detached numbness.

They had never made any promises. It had happened slowly and with no malice on Steve’s part, certainly. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

They had never talked about it, and Tony found reasons to keep to himself.

“Tony,” Steve says, drawing them both back to the present. “Tony, I’m so sorry, I never meant to - it just happened, I never ever wanted to hurt you - ”

“No no, I get it.” His smile is tight and forced. “I mean, I of all people understand it’s way easier to pick up an old project instead of starting on a new one.” He tipped back the rest of the drink and cleared his throat of the burn, turning quickly to head back inside. He paused for just a moment before the doors to look over his shoulder and add in a voice that he was obviously struggling to hold steady, “I heard the agency approved you guys, you could have a kid by New Year’s. Congrats.”

And then he was gone, and Steve was left standing in the cold, feeling as though his heart was bleeding there in the snow.


End file.
